


[Walsh, Connor]

by matchsticks_p (matchsticks)



Category: How to Get Away with Murder
Genre: Alternate Universe - Aliens, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Werewolf, M/M, conceptual poetry, mild mention of dealing with racism, my goal was to create a unique aesthetic experience and I feel I should apologize
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-21
Updated: 2014-12-21
Packaged: 2018-03-02 13:29:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,650
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2813663
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/matchsticks/pseuds/matchsticks_p
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>How Oliver imagined the person he'd spend his life with: He would be ordinary. </p><p>He would be nothing like Connor Walsh.</p>
            </blockquote>





	[Walsh, Connor]

**Author's Note:**

  * For [sassafrasx](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sassafrasx/gifts).



**Approximate number of times [Walsh, Connor]**

takes cold shower, 28; takes ice-cold shower, 2; takes cold or ice-cold shower in Oliver's apartment in order to steady his nerves and/or absolve his sins, 2;  
tries marijuana, 8; tries amphetamines, 1; allows Oliver to think he's tried amphetamines, [20? 30?];  
smiles grimly, 17; smiles in sheer defiance of the gravity of the situation, 4; smiles while feigning bashfulness, 25; feigns smiling, 35; smiles with sincere joy and/or pleasure [?];  
sleeps untroubled by nightmares, 18; sleeps untroubled by guilt, 9; sleeps the shallow sleep of a man alert to all of the choices that have led him to this point, 27; sleeps dreamlessly, 3; sleeps after being worn down to a primal exhaustion by truly robust sexual activity, 36; pretends to sleep while hoping Oliver won't realize and/or remember that he keeps his arms around him the entire night just to feel him breathe, [1?]  
hides a bluff with a sarcastic quip, 72; hides sarcasm with a bluff, 21; bluffs sarcastically, 38; is not at all bluffing even though the other party thinks he is, 5;  
mentally uses the actual words "a worthy adversary" when he thinks of Michaela, 3; mentally uses the actual words "some kind of weird orphan puppy" when he thinks of Wes, 1; verbally uses the word "cunt-fountain" out loud to Asher's face, 2;  
is annoyed with Oliver, 18; is annoyed with Oliver for no particular reason he can place, 4; is annoyed with Oliver for reasons he does not want to admit, 12; is annoyed with Oliver for reasons he's quite willing to explain in extreme detail at extremely loud volume, 2; [feels sorry for screaming at Oliver afterwards, 2];  
contemplates death, 6; contemplates own death, 3; contemplates death in relation to Oliver [?];  
feels completely adequate, 3;  
appreciates Oliver's fingers, 27; appreciates Oliver's tech skills, 13; appreciates the way Oliver's fingers dance across a keyboard in service of his tech skills, 10;  
feels shame, 5; feels remorse, 4;  
underestimates himself, 5; underestimates Oliver, 12; underestimates the world's ability to completely fuck with any well-laid plan conceived by human minds, 1;  
says goodbye to his mother and/or father before he and Oliver assume new identities and leave for good, 0

  


**Ways that [Walsh, Connor] fucks**

vigorously, eagerly, spontaneously, without remorse, with remorse, expediently, effectively, frequently, purposefully, hastily, slowly, skillfully, memorably, roughly, thoroughly, methodically, thoughtlessly, recklessly, hedonistically, proudly, frantically, adventurously, calculatedly, gracefully, ravenously, nimbly, aggressively, loudly, noiselessly, lewdly, rhythmically, impulsively, immorally, casually, violently, filthily, flexibly, shamelessly

  


**Ways that [Walsh, Connor] makes love**  


rarely

  


**Five ways [Walsh, Connor] did not meet Oliver**

1\. Connor moves into a dilapidated old building that must have been a fairly luxurious manor, once, for a rich family now long dead. It's since been divided into four different suites, and the rent is cheap enough for Connor to ignore how often the hot water runs out. He can't ignore the increasing frequency of the wifi going on the fritz, though, because he needs the internet for his law homework and the thought of not being able to turn in his research on time makes him jumpy and irritable. He snaps at next door neighbour at 2:00 a.m. when they bump into each other in the hallway, Connor with some vague thought of looking at the fuse box or something to see if it has anything to do with the internet signal. He honestly has no clue what the fuck he's doing.

It turns out his neighbour is some kind of tech genius, and fixes up his wifi for him even though Connor had been a total dick. 

Connor knocks on his door the next day with a bottle of bourbon to apologize. 

"I...uh, have no idea how to drink that," his neighbour says, eyeing the bottle in apprehension. "I guess I'm not very macho?"

"I'll show you," Connor says, inviting himself in. "Connor Walsh, by the way. I just moved in last month."

"Oliver," Oliver says, letting Connor barge in. "Nice to meet you."

  


2\. At boarding school, Connor sucks the dick of every older boy who'll let him, but the one boy he wants the most refuses to even be alone in a room with him.

Half the guys he blows aren't even gay, maybe aren't even bi. Things just get boring with nothing but your own hand for the entire semester, and Connor takes advantage of the fact that they're desperate enough to pretend that a mouth is a mouth is a mouth. But Oliver, straight-laced and buttoned-up Oliver, he's gay and out and he just will not let Connor show him a good time.

Connor's not sure what it'll take to get Oliver to stop running away in a stammering panic every time he manages to get him somewhere private, but he hopes he figures it out ASAP. Oliver's a senior and he's graduating soon. Connor's working on a deadline.

  


3\. The alpha who bit him scarpered out of town before Connor's first full moon, so there's no one to teach him how to control himself when the moon rises that night, round and swollen with bloody promises. He remembers nothing but a red haze descending over him. When he wakes up the next morning, he's not alone. The man passed out next to him doesn’t look familiar, but the wolf part of Connor's brain already knows his smell, his taste. He's got soft black hair, thick glasses that somehow haven't fallen off his face despite what must have been a rough night, and large ears that wing out, giving him a surprisingly mischievous look at odds with how innocent he looks in sleep. Connor reaches out a shaking hand to tip the unconscious man's chin up gently, but he already knows without having to see that he will find the marks of his own teeth gouged deep into the soft skin of his neck. They're pack now.

  


4\. "Oh, that? It's, um, my ship," Oliver says, bashful and embarrassed and awkward and all of those very Oliver things. 

Only. It's his _ship_ that Connor's accidentally discovered. His _spaceship_.

"So that first night, when you said you were an alien...that wasn't just drunken rambling?"

"Um, I mean, no? Not really? I was kind of hoping you were too drunk to remember it since it kind of slipped out and I'm not really supposed to tell humans about it, actually. You won't tell my boss, will you?"

"Your boss...in space?"

"Oh, yeah, I guess you probably wouldn't run into him or anything, what with the lack of intergalactic public transport in this sector. I'm being dumb, sorry." He pushes his glasses up his nose and then stares at the ground with his chin tucked so low that the glasses slide right back down again.

This is not how the movies have prepared Connor for alien invaders. "You're not dumb," he says automatically, reaching forward to grab Oliver's arms. Oliver's alien arms. "Don't worry, I won't tell anyone else, I promise."

Oliver smiles hesitantly at him. "Thanks. I'm kind of a terrible explorer in general, but I'm not usually this clumsy. I've never just blurted it out to anyone before, and I've never hidden my ship so badly either." He pauses, and his smile turns slightly playful. "It's actually entirely your fault for being so distracting."

Connor rolls his eyes exaggeratedly. "Right, it's _my_ fault, you tell your space boss at your performance review that I deep throated you too hard for you to do your job properly and see how well that goes."

Oliver flushes dark red from his neck to his hairline, and Connor swoops in to kiss him deeply. He really hopes Oliver isn't the kind of alien who can get pregnant with interspecies babies.

  


5\. Once Connor gets the emails he needs from Oliver, he deletes his number from his phone and never speaks to him again. 

They win their case. He eventually forgets the IT guy's name.

 

 **How Oliver imagined the person he'd share his life with**  
  
Age 5: She would be pretty, of course. Probably a princess, or an astronaut. Maybe an astronaut princess with purple hair and a Martian dog.  
Age 10: She would be more of a tomboy, or like a girl version of Cody from down the street.  
Age 15: He would look like Greg McLeod from third period math class, only he wouldn't look right through Oliver like he doesn't exist.  
Age 20: He would probably have to be Asian, or mixed-race like himself, because he's sick and tired of rice queens in the cruising scene seeing him for nothing but his skin. He'd want someone who could relate to that frustration and laugh at racists with him.  
Age 25: He probably isn't out there, but luckily Oliver is getting really good at being alone.  
Age 30: He would be ordinary. He would be nothing like [Walsh, Connor].

 

They have to stay in a grimy motel, because apparently whoever wants to kill Connor for whatever murder conspiracy he's caught up in this time won't expect to find them there, or something. Oliver doesn't ask for details. The less Connor tells him, the less he has to lie under oath should they get arrested. Even for a grimy motel, it's unreasonably gross. There are cockroaches in the pipes that they can hear but not see. Oliver lies very still on the bed and hopes that nothing in the sheets will bite him. Connor lies next to him and holds his right hand. He eventually raises it to his lips, murmuring an apology into his knuckles. "I'm sorry I'm nothing but trouble."

"Don't worry about it," Oliver says. "That's the way it has to be. Ordinary life isn't for people like us." 

"You mean people like me. You're not like that."

"I don't know. I think you've changed me."

**Author's Note:**

> Heavily inspired by Michelle Disler's beautiful work, [[Bond, James]](http://www.amazon.com/BOND-JAMES-alphabet-anatomy-biography/dp/1933996250). If you enjoyed the stylistic elements of this fic, you will enjoy her book, as she does it infinitely better.
> 
> To my Yuletide recipient: I hope you enjoyed it, and I hope you have a wonderful holiday season.
> 
> To all: thank you for reading. <3

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [[Duncan, Rachel]](https://archiveofourown.org/works/3626172) by [piggy09](https://archiveofourown.org/users/piggy09/pseuds/piggy09)




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